


Vacant Fouettes

by breatheforeverypart



Series: Natasha's Life [1]
Category: The Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Red Room - Fandom
Genre: Avengers as family, Gen, Past Red Room, The Ex-Assassins Club, ballet as a bad coping mechanism, these 3 are super traumatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart
Summary: A one-shot of a traumatized Widow coping with fragments of memories she doesn't understand.  She seeks distraction, but to an extreme in ballet.  Clint and eventually Bucky join her after she injures herself in a dissociated state.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: Natasha's Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758643
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	Vacant Fouettes

A metronome ticked somewhere at the base of her skull. 

Colors vaguely familiar seemed to leap from mirror to mirror. 

“Nat.” 

No. No. No. It is a trap to cease. 

The answer is to continue. Never stop moving. Madame would be disappointed at this weakness. 

A dull pain threatened to pull her attention from her fouettes. Perfection was near. She could almost see the soldier the Red Room created. 

“Natasha.” 

Urgent. The voice sparked an emotion. NO. 

“Nat? Nat. Come on…” 

Hands. Soldat? He’s back. Maybe chocolate this time. He spoils me so. He knows our fates are sealed. There is no life after Red. 

There is only pain. Why? Punishment. For failure. Always failure. 

“Fuck. Stay with me Natasha. JARVIS?” 

Heavy. Something…no a body. On top of her. No. No. No. 

“Nat! Hey open your eyes. Look at me. It’s Clint. Hey.” 

Gradually Clint’s face came into focus. With every beat of her heart the image sharpened. Wait. Someone’s hand held a shard of mirror to his throat. The hand was coated in blood. She had to save him. 

“Easy honey. It’s okay. Nat, everything is okay.” 

Wet. Wet under her body. Her throat was raw. Screaming? Was she screaming? 

“It’s not real Nat. I promise. We’re okay.” 

Not real. We’ve done this before. Clint’s said this before. To me. Not real. What’s not real? 

“Nat it’s alright.” He holds her hands by her side and scatters the broken mirror pieces around the studio with a foot. “You with me love?” 

Yes. I think so. Clint. Safe. 

Blinking slowly, she nods her head as pain explodes in her left shoulder and down her side. 

“Yeah. I think you did a number on your ribs. Nothing like Budapest though.” He grinned. 

Being back in her body was just as awful as it always was. Keep moving. Never stop. These rules were drilled into her since toddlerhood. 

Familiar hands pushed her back down to the springboard floor. “Uh-uh. I think you re-broke all your toes. I’ve got Bucky waiting outside the studio. Ready for some company?” 

Bucky. Soldat. James. Many names, but he’s seen worse than this. 

A quick nod to her archer and the Ex-Assassins Club was reunited once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been toying with writing a longer fic in this fandom, let me know if you'd be interested in reading something like that.


End file.
